Obey Your Master
by The Wheezing Dragon
Summary: Raimundo's rebellious spirit lands him in the ownership of the Heylin prince. Special request/commission from CyborgLove on Y!Gallery. WARNING for sadism, dehumanization, pet-play, non-con, and forced cross-dressing.


It had been a terrible idea to leave the Temple unarmed, after all, the brunet surmised. Even if he'd practiced with the Wu as much as Fung had urged him, no magick could save him from the mess he'd gotten himself into this time. The boy clumsily traversed the inhospitable terrain, woefully racking his brains for some sort of recollection of his warrior's training, all the while unwittingly plunging himself further and further into enemy territory.

The moon, hidden behind an eerily thick and murky veil of cloud, was all that illuminated the footpaths of Mount Song, and it did nothing to aid the young Dragon as he desperately fled from his former home... and a deadly convoy. From out the shadows that seemed to swallow all but the barest traces of the rocky valley he scrambled through, several pairs of ravenous, golden, feline eyes raked over the youth's sweaty, panting form. As if being hopelessly lost and unprepared for the journey weren't bad enough, the young monk could clearly hear his approaching demise not far behind him, padding along on the rough ground.

Raimundo silently cursed his luck. Though he was lucky to have even made it this far away from the Temple with no help but his own, he could feel his heart hammering against his ribs in terror - partly from the sheer number of times he'd nearly lost his footing altogether and risked being eaten alive by the beasts that chased him. Even if he were to escape them, the warrior would never forgive himself for his own stupidity.

Somehow, his fury, his pent-up resentment and frustration had boiled over - for the nth time since he had been initiated into his training among the Xiaolin monks - and clouded his better judgment. Year after year of grueling chores, brutal exercise, infuriating setbacks, (caused by a one obnoxious, red-headed adversary) and the mind-numbing waiting and waiting for a new Shen Gong Wu to be revealed... had finally taken their toll. The young Dragon of Wind had had enough. There was nothing more demeaning for a boy with so bold and free of a spirit, than to be subjected to such a torturous, obsequious existence.

Or... so he had thought.

Raimundo raced along the shady path as quickly as his aching legs could carry him, determined to outrun the monsters, no matter how furiously his lungs burned, no matter how his body begged him to simply collapse and pass on. At length, he rounded another of the many tall, jagged outcrops of rock in the rapidly darkening maze... only to run headlong into a stone wall.

The resounding impact of the boy's face slamming into the impassible surface dazed him for a moment or two. When he was able to get his bearings once more, and he realized what had happened, he fell to panicking.

"No!" he cried aloud in horror, "Dammit! No!"

Tears stung his deep, jade eyes, and he clutched his throbbing head with one hand, frantically seeking out the shape of a way out with the other.

Before long, however, his pursuers had caught up with him, and the Dragon of Wind was faced with three monstrous, shadowy predatory cats blocking off any hope of escape. Whilst the beasts closed in around the delirious, aching warrior, Raimundo could only watch in dread as they began to morph, stretching upwards and contorting violently until they stood, bipedal, in human form.

Oh, no. It was worse than the boy had thought.

If he wasn't simply suffering from some awful hallucination brought on by his injury, and these creatures were what he thought they were... then there could only be one explanation why they were here. After all, Raimundo was all too familiar with their master.

"Poor thing," one of the warriors chuckled wryly, his throaty voice making the brunet boy's skin crawl, "I don't remember Master telling us to frighten him so."

"Enough lip," another growled, "Just grab the li'l' fuck and let's get th' hell outta here... Last I checked, Master Young doesn't want us wastin' his time..."

With that, the lad was promptly swept off his sore feet and seized by a particularly muscular soldier, while the other two quickly bound his hands and ankles and crammed a gag into his mouth. Even as he writhed weakly in their collective grasp, Rai knew there would be no easy way out of this one. Against his own volition, he sobbed uncontrollably as he was dragged off into the night.

x

The night was turning out to be more rewarding than he had anticipated.

Chase lay sprawled lazily over a spread of cushions in a corner of his throne room. The preparation, the cautious monitoring of the Xiaolin warriors, and the method of capture had taken several months of meticulous planning. But it was all coming to fruition now, and the end result would be absolutely... delicious.

The Heylin sorcerer licked his thin lips at the sound of the chamber doors creaking open, languidly pulling himself into a semi-sitting position. Even in his state of relaxation, and amid the sheer anticipation of receiving his most desired prize, Chase eyed his armored guard with a half-lidded, reptilian gaze that made him stop several strides away from the makeshift bed.

"M-my lord, forgive me. I-I did not mean to disturb you," the burly man stuttered, and dropped to his knees hastily in a subservient bow. There was absolutely no question as to who was in charge around the palace.

"Unless the boy is prepared and waiting for me outside the door," Chase began icily, brushing strands of jet black hair from his face, "... your fellows will be spending the duration of the evening cleaning your remains from the dungeon floor, Ulric."

"M-M-Master Young, he is ready! Please, if y-you would be so kind as to let me fetch him for you... Master."

"Wonderful," the sorcerer smirked, watching hungrily as his servant darted for the doors.

With a mighty swing, the guard flung the doors wide to invite in a trio of massive, muscular jungle cats: two Bengal tigers striding alongside a sleek, black jaguar, who dragged along a handsome, scantily clad, mocha-skinned boy by a collar with his fanged maw.

The Dragon of Wind. Raimundo Pedrosa.

The sight of his flushing, tear-stained face, his supple but toned body, bound and barely dressed, was more than enough to get the Heylin master hard. He cared not how his subordinates cringed at his predatory advances - he rose, unabashed, from his swath of sheets and pillows, his member proudly rising under his tunic, bobbing up and down as he approached his gorgeous prisoner. No sooner had he laid his gloved hands on the boy's face, than it seemed as though everyone scattered for fear of the consequences of separating Chase from his prize any longer.

Hardly paying the sound of pattering feline feet any heed, the sorcerer dropped to his knees to cup his hands about the boy's pinkened cheeks. As he did, the brunet Dragon struggled against his rope binds, and began to bark muffled curses at him through the decoratively bridled gag in his mouth.

"You're even more beautiful than I remember, child," Chase flashed him a sultry grin, removed his gloves, and set to stroking, petting, pinching, and squeezing at everything that lay exposed to his lustful gaze - which was, indeed, almost everything.

His servants had certainly done a number on him, the immortal noted as he examined the ensemble they'd managed to squeeze Raimundo's full form into. The lad had been freshly bathed, though his otherwise flawless, golden-brown skin displayed obvious evidence of the fight he'd put up. His triceps, collared throat, and hips purpled with bruises from how tightly his captors had had to hold him whilst forcing him into his new garb: a strappy, short, gold-and-black one-piece tunic with peep-holes to spare. The hems of the garment began below his thick leather collar, and barely cut off below the boy's sinewy thighs, just an inch or so shy of fully revealing everything between his legs. The youth's legs, themselves, were now adorned with thigh-high, black stockings, cutting off just below his robust buttocks.

Having been denied so much pleasure for long enough, Chase ceased his stroking and petting to satisfy his curiosity of just how dressed-up - or, rather, dressed-down - his pet was, and presently seized him by his collar to flip him over onto the cushions in the corner. The terrified sobs that rose from Raimundo did nothing but arouse the Heylin warrior further, and he shamelessly revealed himself of the protective cloth over his sizable member, letting its flared tip bounce against the lad's face to intimidate him more.

"Where do you want it first, boy?" he growled at him as he chained the trembling youth to the wall, securing him by his collar like a dog, "Do you want me to slather your chest with my seed like the cheap whore you are? Or perhaps we should try and fill your deceitful mouth?"

Raimundo blushed furiously at the taunting, but was quickly reduced to fearful tears once more as Chase rubbed his enormous, ruddy tip up against the boy's cheeks and nose. Soon, his face was covered with more of his master's pre-jack than with his own tears, saliva and snot.

" _Uhhf! Nngh! Nnn!_ " Muffled screams barely escaped from the monk's gag, and he began to thrash his head back and forth to escape the pulsating appendage in his face.

"My, but you were always the feisty one," Chase quickly put an end to the lad's exertions by grabbing a fistful of his soft, still-damp hair. "I suppose a fitting punishment for something so willful should be... a proper flogging."

At the master's words, Raimundo fell silent. He momentarily ceased to thrash and cry, and looked up at Chase's sneering countenance with pleading, glimmering, emerald eyes.

"Oh, I suggest you stop that right now, boy..." the sorcerer warned him as he retrieved a long, coiled implement from his belt, "... unless you want something to really beg me to stop."

In a flash, he had the poor boy lying face-down across his lap. His erection brushed the youth's freshly shorn stomach and navel through one of his tunic's peepholes, smearing him with more of his foul essence, and making him shake like a leaf in dread. Chase now lifted back the bottom hem of the Brazilian's garb, exposing a pair of tiny, black trunks that now protected his manhood... and scarcely covered his round, toned bottom.

"They even dressed your nethers like a whore," the master chuckled cruelly before pulling down the pair of tight undergarments around the lad's thighs.

"Mmph!" Raimundo started to protest, only to be dealt a harsh crack against his bare cheeks with Chase's crop. He began to scream louder than ever, making animalistic howls that not even the gag could silence.

"Your tears mean nothing, treacherous boy," Chase growled, "Only that you can feel everything I deal to you." He snapped the short whip against his captive's now rosy, welt-ridden buttocks again, harder... and harder... again and again.

At length, the Heylin Dragon seemed to grow bored with the assault, seeing as Raimundo could tolerate at least some pain, and he nonchalantly flung away the whip to retrieve another unusual item from his belt. This time, however, he produced what Raimundo could only assume was some sort of torture device, given its dark, metallic body and cone-shaped, rounded tip. Chase reveled in the boy's horror as he sucked on the strange object, slicking it with hot saliva before bringing it down between his shaking legs.

As he parted the Xiaolin monk's pinkened cheeks, Chase was greeted with another delight that made his cock positively ache with anticipation. His servants had taken the liberty to shave away any pubic hair that would've tainted the otherwise mouthwatering, brownish-pink crevice that housed Raimundo's little star. He thoughtfully stroked the tender flesh of his scrotum with one hand, while easing the sticky toy into the lad's entrance.

"Goodness, you're making such a fuss," the sorcerer smirked at him as he screamed at the intrusion. "No one's ever touched you down here, that much I can tell..."

In spite of all Raimundo's writhing, the toy was successfully slid home, stretching his soft, tight canal and plugging up his now puckering, pink star. All the youth could manage was a mournful whimper of defeat in response, but it pleased Chase, nonetheless. He now turned his prize over in his lap to look over the lad's sticky, sweaty, but handsome face, brushing tears from his cheeks gently and grasping him by his chin.

"Now that wasn't so terrible... Perhaps you may learn to behave yourself yet," the master leered at Raimundo with hungry, golden eyes.

The young warrior did not respond. He only glared back at his captor through pink-ringed, tearful, jade orbs, and it momentarily worried Chase that he had already broken his spirit. This evening would shape up to be painfully drab if the boy wouldn't put up a fight now.

"Hmph. I'd thought you'd be a little more resentful of me than that. Has the fire in your belly already gone out, boy?" the immortal smirked at him, whilst slicing through the ropes that bound his prisoner's wrists and ankles with thick, inhuman claws.

What followed was quite a relief, as Raimundo immediately returned to struggling, this time swinging with balled up fists and lashing out at his captor with all his might. The hits that he did manage to land were hardly of any consequence to the sorcerer, who only chuckled at his pathetic efforts bouncing off his armored chest. If that was all the poor thing could manage with his arms and legs free, perhaps it would behoove him to remove the gag, as well.

With a snap of his clawed fingers, Chase released Raimundo's mouth, and the bridle melted away from the youth's face, leaving him to scream and curse and spit as much as he wanted.

" _Aaugh!_ The hell did you put in me? _Você filho da puta doente!_ " he cried over and over, alternating between piteous pleas in English and crass Portuguese insults.

Even this, the Heylin prince found boring. Before, he was willing to cull the boy into place - make him cry and beg for mercy - before rewarding him, as a master should always reward a pet. But Raimundo would always be... well, Raimundo. And that was the problem. No matter how much Chase tried to get an appropriate reaction out of him, he was always going to get the same rebellious, obstinate, little fuck.

" _Ice_ ," the sorcerer hissed through his teeth, a positively demonic tone overtaking his voice, while a soft but dark, purplish ball of light seemed to project from his scaly fingertips.

His spell cut Raimundo short in mid-curse, and Chase sneered triumphantly, watching as his prey's face contorted in agony. Soon, the boy dropped flat onto his back among the plush cushions, shaking and screaming, furiously plunging his fingers into his own anus to try and pull out the toy.

"What are you doing? _Sick fuck! Make it stop!_ " the Brazilian wailed, tears flowing freely down his cheeks as the now ice-cold hunk of metal in his bottom forced his already suffering ring to contract further. "I-it's sticking! _It hurts!_ "

"That's just a little stimulation spell... Wait until we get to the really fun part," the master chortled in his throat at him, pulling himself alongside the lad to get at his nethers once more.

With one hand, he gripped the youth's soft but appetizing member, whilst fetching another plug from his belt. This one was considerably smaller than the other, with a long, blunted insertion point, and a little rubbery bulb at the other end to keep it from slipping out.

"N-no! _No! Don't!_ _Please don't!_ " Raimundo's face presently went wan with fright. He clearly knew what was coming.

"Spare the rod... Spoil the child."

Chase paid his crying pet no heed. The punishment had to be dealt before the reward. He planted a gentle kiss on the boy's sweet, rosy tip, giving his slit a little tease with his tongue to get him hard...before squeezing the new toy into the tiny entrance. The screams that bubbled up from the lad's throat signaled for Chase to close off his mouth with a hot, toothy kiss. He nibbled, tugged and sucked on Raimundo's lips, all while guiding the plug deeper and deeper into the young Dragon's throbbing cock. At last, when the master was satisfied with the fit, he withdrew his mouth and hands from his pet, and uttered another spell.

" _Fire_ ," the sorceror intoned, waving his clawed fingers like little wands.

In an instant, it was as though the toy plugging up Raimundo's member ignited, though Chase knew that the force behind the bright glow of its rubber tip was more magickal than chemical. It continued to "burn" until the Brazilian's mocha-rose length lit up a brilliant orange from within, surely driving the boy mad with an urge for release.

"N-no more! I c-can't! _Ack!_ "

Soon the youth's desperate shouts gave way to him convulsing, writhing, and bucking his hips. His gorgeous, tan face had become bubblegum pink from his exertions and crying, his freshly cleaned body was slick with sweat under his tight, revealing tunic, and both zones of his nethers appeared pushed to their furthest limits. He tried with all his might to pull out the toys, alternately digging into his bottom, squeezing the base of his cock, and dropping to all fours to try and push the anal plug out with pure force from his intestines. His efforts were all in vain, though, as Chase, still chuckling at his suffering, simply used another spell to push the toys in even deeper.

By now, the boy was a hot, bothered, sticky mess, shrieking in hysterics and crying in his native tongue.

It was, indeed, delicious. Chase reveled in the sight as he knelt beside his prisoner to stroke his hair and pull him into his lap, further aggravating the pain in the youth's anus. He nuzzled the wailing boy's neck, nibbled his ears, and stroked his erection.

"Had enough, child?"

" _Mmmph!_ I can't take anymore! _It hurts!_ I-I-I have to cum! Master Chase, _please! I'll be good!_ "

It was probably the hundredth time in his unnaturally long life that someone had become so low and subservient in the Heylin prince's eyes, but this instance was by far the most satisfying. The master had broken his pet's unruly defiance - not his spirit - and he had taught him his place.

And now, the boy would earn his reward for recognizing Chase as his owner.

" _Melt_ ," he murmured into Raimundo's ear, holding him tight in his armored grasp and pressing on the plug in his bottom.

At his words, the toy seemed to liquify and ooze from the youth's entrance, leaving behind a slippery, silver lubricant in its place. Chase now settled his prize over his own enormous, pulsating, eager member, then crammed himself inside with one slick shove. The insertion made Raimundo scream again, but he soon caved to loud, animalistic moans as Chase rammed his hot, flared tip up against his sweet spot.

Again, again, and again... Over and over, he pounded his pet, tipping him out of his lap and forcing him onto all fours, slamming his face down into the sheets and pillows, and muffling his howls. Before long, however, Raimundo was crying for his mercy again.

"Ch-Chase!" he stammered between ragged pants, "Master! You didn't take the other one out, it's still in m-my... It's still inside!"

"Hngh... Be quiet, boy. Don't make me punish you more... Uhf! And to think I was just starting to enjoy the sound of your voice..." The master joked with him cruelly, never missing a beat.

Even without Chase touching his front, Raimundo came to his climax, the sheer force of his ejaculation sending the toy in his cock sputtering out, flipping end over end amid a thick, gooey, white geyser. Wailing in ecstasy, the young Dragon came again and again, like it was his first time, his second-hand enchanted member gushing his pearly essence in long, steamy streams that splattered his master's love nest. He only had to endure a few more minutes of proper fucking before Chase finally came, roaring as though he had shifted into his magickal dragon form, and he filled the lad's insides to bursting with his seed.

The two then collapsed, panting and twitching from the culmination of their union, among the pillows, with Raimundo still held fast in his owner's arms, and with Chase's softening member still buried in the boy's semen-slicked depths.

At last, when the Heylin prince managed to catch his breath, he lazily reached up and unfastened his pet's collar.

"Wh-wh- why are you letting me go? I th-thought you wanted to keep me," Raimundo muttered weakly, looking back at his captor with exhausted, half-lidded eyes.

"I _am_ keeping you, little Dragon, " Chase kissed his ear and ruffled his hair, "Here in my domain. You did well to recognize me as your master, so I no longer have to exert my... _authority_ so aggressively."

"Oh," the youth replied, though he still seemed bewildered by the sudden change in his owner's demeanor. "Will I ever be able to see my friends again?"

"I'm afraid not. You do belong to me now."

Chase could practically feel the boy's heart sink in despair at his words, and he quickly grabbed him by his chin.

"Why would you ever want to go back to the wretches that mistreated you so, after all? Here, you are my beloved pet, my prize... the one I knew would come to me when the time was right. And here you are..." The master kissed his companion again, this time, much more deeply and intimately, on the mouth, "And the only work you will ever have to do from now on... will be to sate my appetite for your beautiful body."

At first, Raimundo recoiled in horror. It was nothing less than what Chase had expected all along. After all, he was a rebellious little creature that hated to be tied down, let alone owned by his mortal enemy. But, if he was still the shifty, opportunistic type that he had revealed himself to be, time after time, then Chase was certain that the boy would comply.

"No more chores?" the lad raised a thick eyebrow at his master.

"Never. Ever again."

"And what about dinner? I don't have to cook?"

"That's what the servants are for, silly boy," Chase ruffled his hair again.

"Will you at least be a little... y'know..."

"Gentle? Of course, I will. No need to punish you unless you misbehave."

"Well," Raimundo sighed, his damp cheeks flushing a deep red, "This... could work."

"That's what I thought," the Heylin Dragon wrapped his arms firmly about his companion, rocking him gently.

It wouldn't be until sunrise when the Xiaolin warriors would realize that their friend was missing, but none of their pleas would bring him back this time. He had found a new... occupation.


End file.
